Rubble
by likecigar
Summary: Gibbs waits for Tony.


**A/N **

One-shot, although I do have a story in mind I could in corporate this into but don't hold your breath. In the meantime, this is just a scene I'd like to see played out

By dawn, Gibbs had not slept for more than a few hours. Ziva had just arrived to relieve McGee who would return to the office to continue work from there while Ziva would do what she could from the rubble site as she also, surreptitiously, kept an eye on Gibbs. Their leader was beginning to flag. No one would tell him, of course. It would do no good. The S&R team had gone home long ago. There was no recovery effort because the dogs hadn't found anything. No one else believed. So without speaking the plan, the one that had developed was that the team would continue on as best they could, seeking help from the other teams at the office as much as they could. All other time would be spent supporting Gibbs as he maintained his vigil. Coffee was the first priority, anything else a distant second.

The backhoe operator had been selected because he was reputed to be the best. Most people thought of these large machines as being coarse destructive vehicles designed to roar in, do the job and crash out, leaving behind broken areas that other people and smaller machines cleaned up after. Not so with Frankie. Frankie couldn't take his rig in and out and leave _no_ mark, but almost. If it was possible to have a delicate touch with such a machine, Frankie was the one of which it could be said. He was using that touch now, knowing that his objective was not just to remove the rubble that had been the Hagadone Building but to find the evidence that would tell what brought the building down and perhaps who was responsible. As he worked, Frankie became aware of the silver haired man with the coffee cup standing off to the side. The man was never in the way. He never tried to direct the activities though there was a way about him that suggested he wanted to, desperately, but he seemed to be holding himself back. Every now and again, the man would tense slightly and direct his stare to a particular area only to sink back to his vigil with his coffee cup in hand. Frankie knew enough about the situation to know that whatever was in that building belonged to this man in some way. Frankie admired the man's restraint.

Earlier in the day, Gibbs had been glad to see that Frankie was back on the rig. He appreciated the man's ability to be able to be almost delicate with such a massive piece of machinery. Frustrated that he couldn't do more, Gibbs knew he had to step back and let the right people do the job the right way. Still, it was eating away at him not to be more active in the search. Gibbs knew if he left to go back to the office he would be too distracted to be effective. He left McGee and Ziva to take care of things. He didn't know what they were doing to deal with the Director but he was aware that they were often on site though they never voluntarily approached him except to bring coffee. They always gave him an update and he seemed to remember occasionally giving some direction but he couldn't really recall much of what had been said to him in the last few hours. He thought Ziva was nearby now. He had been staring into the rubble for awhile, remembering what the building had looked like before and where things would be now. He had a particular area he wanted to have examined but the EOD team had not found anything in the area. Still, Gibbs felt something was there. Gibbs came out of his reverie and noticed Frankie was directing the backhoe right to the spot his gut told him was significant. Gibbs watched as the rig approached.

Frankie maneuvered the bucket over the rubble and studied it. He wouldn't plow into the pile just to grab a load hoping to uncover or pick up the target. He could see the way the splintered boards, bent pipes, broken conduit and cracked sheet rock connected to one another. He knew how to place the bucket in such a way to move what he wanted to move without disturbing the rest. After each bucket load the EOD team would move in to exam whatever new area was now opened up. They had all been into the rhythm. Frankie moved out with a load, the EOD team moved in while he took the load to a forensic area. As Frankie returned the EOD team would move out and indicate the general area to try next. Frankie would move in, study, place the bucket, remove, dump and return. He and the team had been at it for quite a while when Frankie saw something. He had studied a particular spot several times. He wasn't sure why but the EOD team had always directed him away. Now he was there. He studied it again, moving slowly in. He lowered the bucket and inched forward. Gibbs tensed as the bucket moved in slowly, tilted back and started to raise. The pile began to shift as the heavy blade made contact. Frankie continued forward. He had a feeling something was in there that shouldn't be but he couldn't see it. Another foot forward. He tilted the bucket back, pulling the load toward him. He was about to raise the bucket as he chanced a glance to the silver haired man. The man had tensed, leaning forward, practically on his toes and staring at the rubble pile just in front of Frankie. Frankie looked back and ducked a little to see under the bucket before he lifted it anymore. He saw it. He looked over to the silver haired man. Gibbs shot a look at Frankie for the first time. Frankie returned his look with a quick nod toward the front of his rig. That was all the silver haired man needed. Gibbs threw his coffee to the ground and took off like a shot to the rig. Frankie resumed the slow raising of the bucket. Gibbs shouted to the rescue EMTs. Frankie was now backing out of the pile, the bucket five feet off the ground. And there ,Tony DiNozzo was suspended below the bucket looking as though he had simply crooked one arm over one of the tines of the bucket when in fact he was tangled in loose wires and conduit. Gibbs arrived just as the tangle gave, releasing Tony and dropping him to the ground. Gibbs was there, caught him and ease him down. Frankie was sounding the air horn, getting the attention of the EMTs on standby. The moved in with their gear and Frankie backed away carefully. He moved a respectful distant, dropped the bucket and shutdown the rig. His work was over for now. He'd come back when everyone was gone and he could remove the rest of the rubble with more abandon. He climbed down and turned to head to his pickup only to find his way blocked by the silver haired man. "Good job" the man said extending his hand. Frankie detected a little catch in the man's voice and saw the glistening in his eyes. Frankie took the proffered hand. "He's. . .?" nodding toward Tony not sure, really, what question to ask. "He's alive." the man said and then "Thank you," turned and left. Frankie stood back and watched until the silver haired man climbed into the ambulance with the stretcher carrying his son. Had to be, thought Frankie.


End file.
